"Nay, nay," cried blushing Kitty, "you go too fast; think of madam, my mother, and her antipathy to the 'rebels,' as she calls them, quite forgetting that my aunt (where I made my home in Albany for three years) is one, as well as her naughty daughter. Good lack! my fortunes were told long ago had I but bowed to her wishes; and at the moment, Betty,—to let you into a profound secret,—the most desirable husband for me in her eyes is Captain Yorke."
"Indeed!" said Betty coldly, but Kitty was too engrossed in her own discourse to notice.
"Not that he has such an idea, mind you; he loves to dance and jest with me, as a score of others do. But, Betty, your confidence in Oliver is well sustained so far, and it lightens my heart. Beside, there is no one here who would be apt to recognize him except you and me; though for the matter of that why Clarissa did not see and know his shadow at the servants' dance I have not yet ceased to marvel."
"You forget that she had no knowledge of his presence in New York, and Oliver has changed greatly since she saw him full three years ago."
"And now to grandma," said Kitty, releasing the latch of the door, which she had held carefully in her hand since entering the room, as a precaution against intruders; "and fare you well, Betty, till we meet at the ball to-night."
All through that New Year day Betty's heart throbbed with excitement, as a steady stream of visitors passed in and out of the mansion, where Grandma Effingham and Clarissa bade welcome to old friends and young ones, to stately gentlemen in small clothes and powdered queues, with a fine selection of British officers, beginning with Sir Henry Clinton, who arrived in great state and descended from his sleigh, with its coal-black horses, accompanied by his aides, for the English commander liked to conciliate the Tories of New York, and, as he was then making secret preparations to accompany an expedition to South Carolina, thought best to appear in public even more than usual.
"Mistress Betty," said Geoffrey Yorke, under cover of sipping a glass of port wine which she had offered him, "I drink to your very good health;" then softly, "I have not seen you for a week; have you been quite well since the Christmas party?"
"Is it so long?"—willfully; "Clarissa said you called one day."
"Surely—to ask for you, and you never came inside the room."
"Because I was busy, sir," replied Betty. Then relenting as a swift remembrance crossed her mind, "I was skating at the Collect, where I went with Peter late in the day."